


Treat Me Like That

by NotYourDarlings



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2020 [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Anal, BDSM, Choking, Conflict, Drunken sex, Kinky, M/M, Porn With Very Little Plot, Smut, Spanking, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:42:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22239616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotYourDarlings/pseuds/NotYourDarlings
Summary: Domestic life just wasn't cutting it for Dean and Castiel, so when Dean comes home drunk yet again- Castiel decides to do something about it, to make sure it doesn't happen again.Explicit Content 18+ only.
Relationships: CasDean, DeanCas, Destiel
Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1639138
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49
Collections: SPN Kink Bingo 2020





	Treat Me Like That

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that the content in this ficlet is very mature, and should only be viewed by 18+ Audiences. Please read tags to ensure there is no content that could potentially make you uncomfortable.

There comes a time in most relationships where things start to fall apart. Whether they are platonic or romantic, all things must come to pass. Everything must die. One of the hardest things to do is to let go, to put the past behind you, to move on. Castiel had been clinging on to the hope that things could be repaired, that they weren’t too far gone to repair everything. Deep down though, he was struggling to convince himself. 

He heard the door click open, the stench of cheap whiskey announcing Dean’s arrival coupled with a drunken call. “I’m home, Cas. Food ready?” Same as ever. It made the hairs on the back of Castiel’s neck stand up, the muscles in his body grow tense. Not tonight. There was a clumsy clutter from the front room, Castiel watching from the kitchen as Dean stumbled to pick up the lampshade he’d just knocked over. He caught the look of anticipation on Dean’s face. He didn’t know when things had changed to be that way. He didn’t know when things had stopped being exciting. He hadn’t even noticed Dean slip away into this shadow of a man, his life consisting of little more than work and booze. When had Castiel become this timid, stay at home husband? Cooking dinner, cleaning up Dean’s messes, behaving himself? 

“I’ve not cooked anything.” Castiel’s arms were folded across his chest, his face plain. Dean’s reaction was nothing short of bewildered by that response. He may have been drunk, but he had enough sense about him to know that it had been a long time since Castiel had done anything outside of comply with his every request. It was a comfortable way of living, but it was maybe just a little too easy. 

“Then what am I supposed to do? Starve?” Dean quipped back, making his way into the kitchen to stand before Castiel. He was a little unsteady on his feet, but he managed. 

“I don’t know, Dean. Why don’t you cook for yourself for once?” 

“For myself? I’ve been down at the bar. I can hardly manage that.”

“Well, you can’t expect me to do everything for you, Dean. Not anymore.” 

Dean’s eyebrows shot up at that. All this time of Castiel simply abiding Dean’s commands and requests, he’d forgotten what a little defiance sounded like. Even though Castiel seemed exhausted, tired of putting up with Dean’s repetitive routine, he was fighting back. Dean wasn’t sure why, but something about that made his stomach flutter just a little. Just enough to make him want to push it further. 

“Why not? You’ve been more than happy to do it all this time; what’s changed? What’s different now?” He asked, tilting his head ever so slightly to one side. Castiel seemed a little confused by that reaction. Couldn’t Dean tell? Couldn’t Dean see how his behaviour was draining him? They’d not been intimate in months, barely so much as a kiss goodbye in the morning. That definitely couldn’t be helping with the rising tension between them. 

“This was supposed to be love, Dean!” Castiel snapped, finally raising his voice enough to make Dean flinch slightly. Why was he smirking? Was this somehow funny? Castiel threw his hands up for a moment, letting them land on his head in frustration. “This is happening every day now, Dean. You come home drunk, you laze around doing nothing! This isn’t the kind of marriage I signed up for.”

The drunken dizziness that surrounded Dean when he’d first stepped through the door was fading fast, quickly being replaced by a feeling he knew he should never confess to. Watching Castiel get worked up like this, spewing words so passionate, Dean was fuelling himself up for something far bigger than just a shouting match. 

“I’m doing what makes me happy, Cas. I’m having fun. Does that bother you?” 

Castiel scoffed, clenching his jaw as Dean was apparently mocking him. These were his emotions; this was his life that Dean was toying with. He felt used, and Dean was finding it amusing. “Of course, it bothers me. You’ve… You’ve changed, Dean. You’re not the same person you used to be. I used to be the thing that makes you happy. We used to have fun together.” Ordinarily, Castiel’s voice would have faltered. Maybe it would have trembled, sounded sad- but instead, it was loud. It was angry. 

Dean’s smirk grew. He opened his arms, as if to taunt Castiel closer. “What are you gonna do about it?” He teased, narrowing his eyes at his husband. That look struck something deep down in Castiel. A realisation. He knew that look. He hadn’t seen it in a very long time, but there was no mistaking exactly what it meant. Dean was taunting him. He was trying to rile Castiel up because this wasn’t just some domestic dispute between the two of them.

For the first time in months, their interaction was more than just an apathetic exchange in the hallway as Dean got ready for work. There was real emotion. That passion was enough to strike a match and set things on an inevitable path that, even if it culminated in destruction, would definitely lead to the pair engaging in something that had long since been forgotten. 

“For so long, Dean, you’ve been wearing me down.” Castiel began, closing the gap between them. Dean may have been a few inches taller than Castiel, but the intense glare in Castiel’s eyes was burning enough to make him feel small. “You’ve torn me down to nothing. You’ve hurt me, Dean. You need to know how that feels.” There was no hesitation as Castiel tightly gripped Dean’s throat, an action so swift that Dean hadn’t expected it. As Castiel squeezed his hand, the muscles in his strong forearm became more defined, and Dean’s hand reached up to feel the tension. He gave a slight nod, urging for the man to take this further. 

“Do it, Cas.” He breathed, voice fainter as the pressure around his throat increased. Their faces were just centimetres away from one another, and Castiel could feel Dean’s struggling breathes against his own lips. All the half-assed conversations, the expectations placed upon Castiel, the messes Dean had left behind- Castiel wanted revenge. Revenge for turning him into a submissive little bitch, which he most certainly was not. He loosened his grip a little, eyes scanning Dean’s face curiously. He could still smell the whiskey on Dean’s breath, but the desperation in his eyes was enough to stir something inside Castiel that urged him to continue. 

In a swift and calculated movement, he twisted Dean around, guiding until he was pressed face down, bent over the kitchen table. Dean’s head was slammed down against the table with a harsh thud. Castiel had Dean’s hands pinned against his back, leaning over him so his voice was clear beside his ear. “Oh, I will. I’ll show you exactly what it feels like to be walked all over like some meek fool.” He whispered. Dean pushed his hips back just a little as the words sent a chill down his spine. He suppressed a chuckle as he could feel the erection already growing in Castiel’s jeans, glad of the confirmation that they were both on the same page. At the sudden pressure of Dean’s ass against his crotch, Castiel grunted slightly, pressing Dean’s restrained hands down against his back. “I’m not your bitch.” His voice came through gritted teeth.

“Prove it.” Dean wouldn’t stop taunting, wouldn’t stop pushing Castiel until he got exactly what he knew he deserved. He wanted to see Castiel lose his mind, wanted to watch the man unravel and take out all his little frustrations. It worked too, because Castiel only took a step back for a second to slide his hands beneath the fabric of Dean’s t-shirt. Dean shivered a little at the feeling of Cas’ cold fingers travelling slowly up to his shoulder blades. The sharp sensation of his nails digging in was new though, Dean’s entire body coming to life. He hissed loudly, eyebrows pinching together at the burning friction against his skin. The noise sent signals straight to Castiel’s brain, a deep satisfaction that made his cock twitch within his jeans. Once his hands reached the dip in Dean’s lower back, Castiel glanced down to where Dean’s boxers were peeking out above his jeans. 

Castiel stayed silent as he reached around to unbutton Dean’s jeans. Dean kept his hands obediently still, one either side of his head, not raising his cheek from the table. Before long, Dean’s lower half was completely exposed, and Castiel gave a half smirk at the sight of Dean’s throbbing erection as it sprung out from the boxers that had contained it. He ran his tongue along his top teeth, carefully assessing the situation and plotting just how he planned to make Dean pay for what he’d made him endure. 

He slapped his hand harshly against Dean’s plump ass, one, two, three times. The sting clung to Dean’s skin, his body jolting slightly with each collision. Each time, Dean grunted, hands balling into fists beside him. “Is that all you’ve got?” He purred, shaking his ass in Castiel’s direction, earning a sound of disgust from his lover. Castiel dug his fingernails in deep as he grabbed on to Dean’s ass this time, pushing deeper until he was certain he’d draw blood. Dean gasped loudly with pleasure and pain, eyes widening. Castiel’s silence was invigorating, only leaving Dean in complete darkness about what was yet to come. 

For a few moments, there was nothing. Dean knew better than to turn around as he heard Castiel’s footsteps walking away from him. He was on edge, but he had a good feeling about why Castiel had left. He was bringing back a little treat. He let his eyes fall shut, not wanting to ruin the surprise for himself when he heard Castiel return. The sound of several things being placed on the table beside him only excited him further. 

The lube, a paddle, and enough rope to keep Dean’s hand firmly behind his back. Castiel looked over what he’d dug out from the box in the bedroom that had been closed and hidden away for far too long. He picked up the paddle first, twisting it in his hands before holding on to it properly. The sound of the leather slapping against Dean’s skin was electrifying. Cas’ eager eyes watched as he hit the red skin, drawn in by the gasps and moans that Dean was making no effort to conceal. He lost himself in the way that the skin rippled under every hit, flaring up in a heated red as it tried to recover from the harsh slaps. 

Castiel had to give in. The erection throbbing in his pants was being suffocated and his body was aching for release. He placed the paddle beside Dean’s head, picking up the rope and skillfully tying up Dean’s hands tightly. All the while, Dean was grunting and rocking himself against the firm table, begging for the same pleasure. Castiel’s own jeans and boxers were off in seconds, and the bottle of lube was being emptied over his cock and fingers. He gave no warning before a finger inside, curling upwards, and then two. It may have been a while, but he still had Dean’s body memorised. Dean’s body convulsed beneath him, fists clenching tightly together in the restraints. Castiel didn’t prep him for very long, too impatient and too hungry for the tightness of Dean’s ass around his erection. 

The hot burning as Castiel stretched Dean open, pushing inside him with the full force of a thrust. Dean’s knees close to buckled beneath him as the wave of pleasure coursed through him. Castiel’s hands were still heavy on his skin, nails digging into his flesh, and skin slapping his tender ass. Then, teeth. White hot scraping along the nape of his neck and down between his shoulder blades. It triggered noises unholy from deep in Dean’s gut, his eyes rolled back into his head. Pulsating pleasure accompanied each and every thrust, and Dean knew full well that there was no way he could last long at all like this. 

They’d been starved of intimacy for so long, Castiel could feel his own climax rising too. Perhaps they’d taken the foreplay a little too far. Perhaps that didn’t matter. Castiel’s world consisted solely of the tightness around his cock, and Dean’s skin beneath his lips, beneath his fingers. All he wanted in the world was the rhythm they’d created with their bodies, and Dean’s helpless whimpers. He snaked one hand around Dean’s body, gripping hold of Dean’s yearning cock. He’d only pumped his fist once or twist before Dean’s cum splattered across the table, and Dean had all but lost control of every muscle in his body. His hole constricted, triggering Castiel’s own climax, paired with a deep, guttural moan as he thrust deep inside Dean. 

Once furious hands that had torn into Dean’s flesh, became softer, and caressed the tan skin beneath gently. “I deserve better, Dean. You need to learn to treat me right.” Despite the post-orgasm high, Castiel maintained a firmness to his words, and authority. 

“Yes, sir.” Dean nodded, still catching his breath. He’d learned his lesson.


End file.
